


‘Tis the Season

by tersa (alix)



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Holidays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-12
Updated: 2011-12-12
Packaged: 2017-10-27 06:20:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/292574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alix/pseuds/tersa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the masseffect@LJ 2011 Secret Santa exchange, for the prompt "Christmassy and/or fluffy Kaidan/FemShep stuff, preferably ME1 era".</p><p>Based loosely on SinVraal's custom Shepard, Kye, which you can read about in her fics here on AO3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	‘Tis the Season

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SinVraal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinVraal/gifts).



“ _What_ is that?”

Kaidan followed Kye’s gaze upwards to a spot directly over his head and spied what she was referring to: a cluster of shiny, deep green leaves, stuck to the apex of the ceiling with what looked like an entire roll of some kind of adhesive tape.

“Ah!” Liara exclaimed, crossing the floor towards him in avid admiration. “A representation of _Viscum album_ , a plant native to Earth, highly poisonous but used in a decorative capacity during the human festival of northern hemispheric midwinter, I believe it is.”

“Mistletoe,” he translated, feeling his cheeks heat. Hurriedly, he reached up to snatch it down, having to employ biotics to find enough force rip the tape free.

“I know what it is,” Kye replied coolly, no reaction either way in her tone to whether or not she recognized the traditions linked to it and the fact that Kaidan had been standing beneath it. “What I’m wondering is how it got there.”

“No idea,” he answered quickly.

But Kye had a guess. Looking up at the speaker for the comm unit, she said with a hint of warning, “Joker.”

“Whaaaat,” Moreau’s voice drawled out innocently but too quickly, Kaidan thought, as if he’d been listening in. Given certain events of the past month, he wouldn’t be surprised if he had been. “It was just a little fun, trying to get everyone in the holiday spirit. Wrex helped!” he said brightly, throwing the krogan in front of the blame bus, then added, “We deserve a little celebration after saving the Citadel, don’t we?”

Kaidan watched Kye, holding his breath a little. His plans hinged on a favorable response, though he hadn’t anticipated this test.

Fortunately, she smiled, and he felt the tension ease out of him with his exhale as she replied, “A little one. Do you think I should pick something up while we’re out?”

“A case of beer wouldn’t go wrong. Oh oh oh, I know, what about one of those cakes where the hot girls jump out of it? I’ve always wanted one.”

“Don’t push your luck,” Kye growled.

“Oh, fine,” Joker said dismissively. “Be that way. But, you know, something special would be nice. Maybe we can have a little party down in the mess.”

“You know everyone’s still trying to recover from the attack,” Kaidan slid into the conversation, completely truthful but also as a bit of misdirection. “We may not be able to find anything special.”

“I know, but—try? I have some credits, I can pay you back.”

“We’ll look into it,” Kye said, bringing an end to the wheedling. “No guarantees.”

When she turned to head out of the airlock, Kaidan palmed the mistletoe and slid it into his pocket.

#####

It hadn’t been a huge party, but a success nonetheless. “Half the Citadel is in ruins,” Kye had commented as she’d paid for decorations and the beer-like substitute they’d found at one of the many kiosks that had sprung up in place of stable shop fronts, “and yet somehow, the kitsch is back in full force.”

“It’s Christmas,” Kaidan had said, feeling the need to defend the holiday spirit. “Joker’s right, people need to feel like life’s getting back to normal. And it’s good of you to do this for the crew.”

She’d given him a warm smile. “You’re a good man, Kaidan Alenko.”

“So are you, Commander. I mean—“ he tripped over his words, “a good woman. Person,” he’d added to her chuckle.

“At ease, Lieutenant.”

Had she…winked?

The corridors of the Normandy were all but deserted. Kye had assigned a skeleton crew to the night shift, with the rest of them sleeping off the festivities in their bunks. Even Joker. “Metcalf can cover it,” he’d said as he’d cracked his first beer.

“You leave the chair?” Kaidan had joked.

Joker had scoffed “I have to use the can _sometimes_.”

But Kaidan didn’t pass completely unnoticed. Adams, carrying a cup of coffee from the galley on his way to engineering, stifled a smile in a cough, to which Kaidan sighed, fighting the blush that threatened to creep into his cheeks. He reached Kye’s door and had to take a moment to steel himself to deal with her likely reaction before thumbing the chime.

“Who is it?”

Quelling the nervous flutters in his stomach, he answered softly, “It’s Kaidan.”

A pause, and she said, “Enter.”

She blinked when he did, her shoulders convulsing in suppressed laughter while a hand clapped over her mouth to hold it in. But over her hand, her amber eyes danced. It only took a moment to compose herself, but mirth colored her, “What is _that_?”

Self-consciously, he smoothed down the sweater. “It’s a reindeer.”

“Okay,” she said, taking a different tack, “ _Why_?”

“My mom gave it to me my first Christmas I joined the Alliance. I like wearing it to think of her.”

“Oh,” she said, sobering quickly, then turned curious. “Why didn’t you wear it earlier?”

“Because.” He felt awkwardness trickling in and squashed it. “It’s, ah, a special occasion thing.” And with that, he thrust the box held behind his back towards her.

She took it with amused interest, turning to put it on the table beside her before beginning a precise unwrapping of it. Kaidan tried not to fidget while he watched and held his breath when she took off the lid.

“It’s a Christmas tree. On a sweater.”

Her voice carried deep reservations he jumped in to allay. “It wasn’t my idea. I…may have told my mom about you,” he said with growing sheepishness. “She sent it for you, asked me to give it to you. I guess as a thank you…or something.” He knew it was more than that, but wondered if she saw the significance of _this_ , too, and how she would react if she did.

The quirk of a half-smile didn’t precisely answer his question, but her demeanor softened. “Tell your mother…thank you. It’s been a long time since—since I received a gift from someone outside the service.”

“I’ll tell her,” he said, relief making him sag in his stance. Deciding to risk it, he slid his hand into his pocket and pulled out the plastic sprig he’d purloined earlier, free now of all the adhesive, and brought it up to twirl between his thumb and forefinger. The motion caught her attention and, meeting her eyes briefly, he raised it above his head.

The half-smile widened to light up her face, and she took a step forward to slide her hands around his neck, her body warm against his as she said under her breath, “Merry Christmas.”


End file.
